Bad Case of the Mondays
by permanentdestination
Summary: Poor Molly Hooper has firmly come to believe that no good deed goes unpunished. Things look bleak for the normally effervescent and cheery pathologist until she finds a new mantra and along with it a new found confidence that even a man who claims to be "married to his work" would be hard pressed to ignore. Sherlock/Molly
1. Chapter 1

*** **I do not own any of these characters. **More sherlolly goodness to follow. I'm writing this from a much less "spelling-it-out" format and will probably continue to use gesture and body language to express character emotions and thoughts but specific thoughts will be added as necessary. Pardon my awful shifting of tenses. Hope you enjoy and I will definitely add the next chapter very soon. ***

I bolt up, my body covered in sweat. My eyes dart to the alarm clock, and my shoulders visibly relax as I slowly lower myself back on the bed. The frown etched on my face slowly releases as I let out the breath I wasn't aware of holding.

"It was only a bad dream," I murmur as I close my eyes and float back to sleep.

My body flinches as my alarm buzzes and I momentarily debate if I should just turn over and ignore the ringing. I sigh and open my eyes, only to scrunch them shut tightly as I take in the bright morning light, silently chastising myself for leaving the curtain open yet again. Keeping my eyes shut, I use my hand to feel for my alarm. Picking it up, I turn it off and chuck it across the room. I cover my head with the duvet and shift onto my side, facing away from the unnecessarily bright window. Mondays.

Sleep was slowly creeping back up on me when I was jolted back to reality by a loud noise of metal crashing coming from my kitchen. A low growl escaped my mouth as I throw the duvet from over my head. I swiftly get out of bed and toss a robe on before rushing out of my bedroom and towards the root of the loud noise.

My eyes grow wide the moment I step into the living room. Everything has been turned inside out. All my books are off the shelf and are scattered across the room, couch cushions are propped up in one corner, and even an equally wide-eyed cat crouches behind a tipped over fichus. I draw in a deep breath and raise myself up tall before entering the kitchen where more metal noises are being emmited.

My kitchen matches my living room, in the least appealing way. Pots and pan litter every surface and more then a couple plates appear to be broken. My voice is three octaves higher as I say his name. "Sherlock."

He looks up at me grinning, which quickly disappears. I gesture to the surrounding area and point towards the living room.

"For a case," he says before returning to inspect a piece of broken plate. My hands begin to shake but I drag myself to the shower.

The water does little to stop the shaking. I slowly get dressed while using several different breathing techniques I learned from my psychiatrist. The shaking ebbs.

Reemerging into the front room, I see that Sherlock has now moved to inspect the cushion-less couch. "No good deed goes unpunished," I say loudly enough for him to hear as I grab my purse and exit my apartment.

One cab ride and several more breathing exercises later, I enter the morgue. Mondays.


	2. Chapter 2

_***_** I do not own any of these characters. **(Except for Joaquin Norfleet, since he's OC) I will upload the next chapter within the next two hours. Is Joaquin a potential threat to sherlolly? But sherlock seems to be too oblivious and has taken poor molly for granted one too many times, perhaps she needs the attentions of a good man who can give her what she deserves. But is Dr. Norfleet all he claims to be? Reviews are very much appreciated :) _***_

2

I roll my eyes as I feel the all too familiar buzzing in my pocket. With a tinge of sadness, I miss the days when my only text messages were from my sister. I continue with my work but throw my hands up in the air and moan as the buzzing continues. I remove my gloves and yank the phone from my pocket. 17 messages. Viewing the "-SH" at the end of each message no longer leaves a cute tickle in my stomach, only a headache. I scroll through yet another list of objects that I must retrieve. Each additional text is an addendum to the first list. The smallest smile appears on my lips as I find a text from john. He asks me to meet with him. The sadness and desperation ring from every word. My smile has disappeared.

My stomach grumbles in protest as I use my lunch break to purchase a few of Sherlock's items. I sigh as I look at my shopping cart filled with the strangest assortment. The cashier lifts a brow as I check out and I return it with a small shake of my head and roll my eyes.

I walk out of the store only to find that it's now raining but I've left my umbrella back in the morgue. Quietly, I set down my bags and summon every ounce of strength within me to not cry.

"Need assistance?" chirps a happy voice. I turn to see a young man with a large blue umbrella walk towards me. I do nothing. He gingerly takes the last step towards me and holds the umbrella over my head. I give him the briefest of smiles. "Let's call you a taxi," he says in the same happy tone. "Where are you headed?" he asks as he waits for a cab to pull over. "St. Bart's," I murmur as I glance up at him and then quickly look back to the ground. "That's the strangest of coincidences," he says as a taxi stops. He smiles and shows me his St. Bart's badge - reading the name **Norfleet, Joaquin MD -** before adding, "Mind if we share?" I nod and grab my bags before scrambling into the taxi.

He talks with his hands. He talks a lot and takes little to no encouragement from me to continue talking which is for the best since I'm not really listening. I furrow my brows and look him up and down. I've no idea how intently I'm looking at him until he stops talking and stares back. "Sorry," I mutter as I feel my face heating. "My name's Joaquin," he says as he extends his hand. My shoulders loose their tension as I shake his hand. "Molly," I reply just as the taxi arrives at the hospital. He rushes out the cab and runs around to open my door. I sit in the car, my eyes wide and my jaw slightly slack as he stands on the curb holding open the door. He smiles and I shake my head before grabbing my items and stepping out on the sidewalk.

"Well, perhaps we will run into each other again sometime at work," he says beaming down at me.

"I don't really bump into anyone in the morgue ever. Well, at least not with anyone capable of answering back when I talk to them," I mutter, hoping in vain that I had only said that last part in my mind. I look up to see Joaquin's body shaking as he hold his stomach. He's laughing so hard that he cannot make a sound. Suddenly a burst of laughter comes out of him. I stand there, wide-eyed, petrified that I have finally done it. I've said something so stupid that it's going to kill someone. I had always hoped I'd be the one to die at its hand.

He stands up and wipes the tears from his eyes and straightens out his clothes.  
"Oh Ms. Molly, you are an absolute treasure. What a comedian you are! I will make it my personal mission to visit you in your morgue tomorrow just to provide you with the type of company that can hold a conversation," he says as I notice the laugh wrinkles in the corners of his eyes.

"Oh please don't feel guilted into it. I just say things without giving them any thought before hand."

"It would be my genuine pleasure," he says taking my hand between his as he emphasizes the last two words.

"Well… goodbye," I whisper before briskly walking back to the morgue.

I place the bags on the table in my office and sit in my small office chair. Sitting forward, I collapse my head onto the desk. The first nice man to do anything the least bit kind for me in at least 6 or 7 months and I have to completely ruin it by opening my mouth. Mondays.


	3. Chapter 3

*** **I do not own any of these characters. **(Only Joaquin Norfleet). Molly is at the end of her tether, being reduced to a servant for Sherlock. A concerned citizen tries to help but is ultimately shut down. Molly definitely finds good reason to regret helping Sherlock after the Richenbach falls. Will the oblivious consulting detective ever give the pathologist the thanks she so rightly deserves? Reviews are very much appreciated! ***

3

I hear the soft noise of my office door creaking open. Lifting my head up off the desk, I'm startled to see Joaquin standing in front of me.

"Sorry for being such a nuisance but you seem to have dropped your phone," he says holding the small object in his palm. I hesitate a moment before reaching out and grabbing the phone and stuffing it inside my pocket. "Thanks," I say, attempting to give him a smile.

"I really hope this isn't out of line, but in the time it took me to find you to return your phone, you received several less-than-pleasant text messages from the same number. Please know this is only out of concern but, Dr. Hooper, are you in an abusive relationship?" he asks, his brows knitted and his eyes glassy.

Yet again my brain to mouth filter fails me as "I wish," escapes my lips. My eyes shoot wide and I feel the heat begin all over my body. "Oh god, no I don't wish I was in an abusive relationship. Only that I was in a relationship. Not that I can't have a relationship ship but now is just the wrong time and I mean its always a wrong time and relatioships are just so messy and who needs that…" my tongue has a mind of it's own but I eventually clamp my mouth shut. Inhaling deeply, I try again. "He's my flatmate. Just a bit tightly wound, nothing of concern."

"I've been depressed before Dr. Hooper, I know the signs. Your flatmate may not be physically hurting your but verbal abuse is just as dangerous," he adds after a moment of awkward silence.

"I appreciate your concern, but I'm perfectly fine. Now, I really have to get back to work," I say with a small smile to assure him that I didn't mean my rebuff in a harsh way.

"Very well Dr. Hooper, another time perhaps," he says before exiting my office.

Burying myself in my work has become my escape. I dread days off. Today, luckily enough for me and unluckily for my "patients", I'm very busy and have little time to let my mind wander to the events of today and what awaits me at home when I finish up at the morgue. At 11, I finally finish and head home, quickly stopping by one of my favorite late night restaurants to grab some take away.

I slowly take out my keys as I stand in front of my door. Prolonging to moment before I'm thrust back into his presence. Every single thing he has ever asked of me, I have done with minimal complaining. All the complaining I have done has been silently in my head. He takes no notice. I could die tomorrow and he'd only notice when he run out of tea.

Suddenly the door swings open and he grabs the bags before rushing to the kitchen table. I stand momentarily frozen before sagging my shoulders and dragging myself to the living room couch. I eat a little from my take away. What appetite I had has vanished. I get up and put the leftovers in the fridge. I lean down and place the take away on the shelf. As I stand back up, I realize that Sherlock is standing next to me. I look up at him and hold my breath. If he has another ridiculous demand, I may murder him. All the secrecy after Richenbach Falls will have been a waste because I will kill Sherlock Holmes for real this time.

"Thank you Molly Hooper," he whispers quickly before placing a small kiss on my cheek. Before I can react, he turns around and sits back at the kitchen table to use the items I had just brought him.

The worst decision I have ever made has been falling in love with Sherlock Holmes. He's tortured me everyday but one damn kiss on the cheek and immediately I forgive him for all of it. Maybe I should just kill him anyways.

"Tuesdays," I whisper as I watch the clock strike midnight.


	4. Chapter 4

*** **I do not own any of these characters.** Except for Joaquin Norfleet. For being a sherlolly story, things seem a little tense between our main characters. That kiss was so promising but will it be enough to spark a romance? Reviews are appreciated. ***

4

I hesitate to leave the room. He did just kiss me. Well… on the cheek but it still counts. What does this mean? Was it just a thank you or-

"Molly quit thinking or leave the room. You're distracting me," he says, not looking up from the objects on the kitchen table. I flinched at his harsh tone before racing out of the kitchen and into the safety of my bedroom. So much for thinking it meant anything.

As I get ready for bed, my mind wanders to the words Joaquin had said to me earlier. Was I in an abusive relationship? Well if I was, I was certainly not receiving any of the positive benefits of the relationship. In fact, this abuse was absurd. I do not need to take this. He has to leave or act in a better manner towards me, my things, and my damn cat. I'm going to march out there and tell him right this second. I was about to turn the handle of the door and tell him what for when my confidence deserted me. Who was I kidding? I threw my hands up in the air and let out a sigh as I went to my bed and turned out the lights. I'm a spineless ridiculous doormat.

I woke up to my alarm and quickly took and shower and got dressed. To my relief, Sherlock was nowhere to be seen. For the first time in weeks, Toby and I enjoyed a quiet breakfast together. A tiny part of me was disconcerted that he hadn't left a note. Why would he? I'm not his keeper. I gave toby a pat on the head before heading out the door and going to work.

My phone buzzed just as I entered the morgue. The few moments of joy I had from some alone time this morning were shattered when John texted me to remind me about our lunch engagement today. Lying to that poor man kills me even if I know it's for his own protection. I reply in the affirmative and get started on my work.

I force a smile when I see John step out of the cab. He looks worn. It's been four months since Sherlock faked his death but John looks to have aged years. He has a perpetual empty look in his eyes. Even when he smiles and laughs, his eyes break my heart. I hug him and really give him a strong reassuring squeeze. I may not think everything will turn out alright for myself, I just know things will be okay for him. He's a good strong man.

We walk to a café down the street as he asks me questions about work and I ask him about the new medical practice he's started up with. As soon as we are seated at an outside table, he looks at me directly and asks, "how are you holding up molly? Don't feel like you can't tell me because I know how you felt about him."

A lump forms in my throat and my face heats in shame.

"Oh John, things have changed so much and everyday I'm being beaten down more and more. I don't know how much more I can take," I say, telling him the truth but not revealing anything about Sherlock's state of un-dead. A small sob escapes me but I shut it down quickly and compose myself for John's sake.

Reaching across the table, he takes my hands between his.

"Not a day goes by where I don't think about him," whispers John as he barely restrains the tears that threaten to pour down his cheeks.

Lunch was dreadful. I devise a plan to distance myself from John until Sherlock can reveal himself back into the world. Lying and not being able to just shout the truth at him become more difficult every time I see his poor broken spirit. I also silently agree to not murder Sherlock for real until after John gets to see him again.

Around 7 I finish up and head out of the morgue when I hear my name being called from down the hallway.

"Joaquin?" I ask, surprised to see him as he races to catch up with me.

"I'm so sorry that I wasn't able to come visit you in the morgue today. I was so absurdly busy. How about we grab a pint?" he asked, searching my face for a reaction.

I shook my head but smiled a real genuine smile.

"Not tonight. I've had a rough day and can imagine nothing better than a good soak in the tub followed by going to bed early," I say happily, hoping to not hurt his feelings.

"What about this weekend? Saturday night?" He tries again.

I think about it. Sherlock certainly doesn't want me and why the hell should I stay single just because of a madman living in my flat?

"I would love to," I answer before giving him my cell phone number so that he can let me know where to meet him on Saturday.

"See you then," he says, giving me a quick peck on the cheek before walking down the street.

I hailed and cab and smiled to myself. Tuesdays are maybe a little better than Mondays.

Sherlock is still not there when I return to my flat. I pour myself a rather large glass of wine and relax in the bath. Who needs Sherlock Holmes?


	5. Chapter 5

*** **I do not own any of these characters.** Except for Joaquin Norfleet) Will this potential new romance with the cheeky young doctor push Sherlock out of Molly's heart? Or will the crazy consulting detective keep fair maiden's heart? Reviews are appreciated! ***

5

My flat has remained Sherlock-free for three whole days. I silently eat my take away on the couch on Friday night. Idly wondering where he is and if he's safe, I stab my fork quite harshly into my food. Not one damn text message. I know I'm not his bloody mother but for god's sake, he can't even be bothered to send me one text to let me know where he is or if he's even alive. I hope he's dead. The thought is sobering and instantly brings up the memory of the "dead" Sherlock Holmes on my operating table at the morgue. Even at the time, I knew he wasn't dead but he appeared so lifeless and cold that it seemed real. I slowly stand up and put my take away in the fridge before going to bed. The very last thought I have before I go to sleep is of the kiss he gave me on the cheek and I mutter, "you better still be alive you bloody bastard."

I have formulated an idea for dealing with John. He needs to move on from Sherlock's death and find a way to heal that hole in his heart. I may not be successful in my own love life but I do know a good match when I see one. John has agreed to meet me for lunch today but what he is unaware of is that I'll be bringing my friend, Mary along with me. She's agreed to help me shop for a dress for drinks with Joaquin tonight. They are both good people with kind hearts and this may solve my John dilemma. I momentarily fear that John will see through my attempt but even if he does, he's much too much of a gentleman to call me out on it in front of my friend.

I take a cab to Mary's apartment and pick her up before heading to the shops. Just my luck, every dress we find is either unflattering, too large, or too way to sexual for me. Mary attempts to convince me to try on a tiny red dress but I shut her down. I am in no way the vixen that a dress like that requires. We eventually give up and go to lunch. I quickly lied to Mary and told her that I had forgotten about my lunch meeting with John but that I would love if she tagged along. It took a little convincing but she eventually caved and came with me. I watched as John entered the small café. He game me a little have smile but the moment he noticed Mary, it turned into a mega-watt Cheshire cat grin. I quickly explained my "mistake" to John but I could tell from his smile that all was forgiven. Initially they needing a little prodding from me to keep the conversation going but by the end of lunch, I had become almost an intruder on their private moment. I gave them both my apologies and told them I had to continue looking for a dress. Not that they were even listening.

Back at my apartment, I put the finishing touches on my makeup just as my phone buzzes with a new text message. I feel those almost forgotten butterflies as I read Joaquin's message. We're meeting at one of the newer trendy bars. Taking a deep breath, I check myself out fully in the mirror. Once I deem myself presentable, I give toby a pat on the head and leave my apartment.

Joaquin is the epitome of gentleman. He held doors open for me, held my chair out for me, ect. I couldn't think of a single time any man had acted this kindly to me. The evening was exceeding any of my expectations. Conversation with Joaquin was easy and entertaining. I couldn't help the nagging feeling in the back of my mind telling me that there must be strings attatched. No man is this nice without a reason… right?

After we finished drinks, we shared a cab. I was dropped off first, but Joaquin insisted on walking me to my door. Nervously, I walked up the steps to stopped outside my apartment.  
"Er, uh, thanks for tonight. I had a great time," I managed to stammer out.

"Me too! I'll see you at work on Monday and we'll decide where we're going for out next date," he said stepping a bit closer to me.

"Next date?" I squeaked.

He laughed and nodded his head.

I stared at the floor, afraid that my voice would betray me. Suddenly, I felt his hand on my chin, lifting my face up to his. I stared into his eyes momentarily before I felt his lips brush against mine. It was the briefest of kisses before he pulled away.

"Good night molly," he said stepping away from me.

"Night," I whispered as I watched him walk away.

The moment I step inside my apartment, I shift from giddy school girl to full blown panic.

"Sherlock, you're bleeding!"


	6. Chapter 6

*** **I do not own any of these characters.** Except for Joaquin Norfleet. Dearest Molly can never have just a single moment of uninterrupted happiness. Can she heal Sherlock's wounds? Will it be enough to make him see how much molly loves him? And what exactly does he smell like? Reviews are appreciated! ***

6

I dart over to the couch where Sherlock is sitting perfectly unfazed as blood rushes down the side of his head.

'it's just a scratch. It's of no consequence. Where were you?" He says as I gingerly inspect his wound.

"Sherlock, I need to stitch you up or else you're going to go into shock," I say trying to keep my voice from sounding as panicked as I feel.

I rush into ,y bathroom to grab my medical kit and come back to the living room. I grab Sherlock's arm and gently guide him to the kitchen table. I clean up the gash and am relieved to see that it's not very deep but he goes along the entire side of his head. It takes several stitches to close it up. Sherlock didn't even flinch once. I cover the whole thing in plaster and go to the sink to clean my hands and my tools.

"You're humming," he says in a tired voice.

I turn around to examine his clothes. He's covered in blood.

"Give me your clothes and I'll run them through the wash." I say as I put my medical supplies away. I'd assumed he'd walk to the bathroom but he began to unbutton his shirt right there in the kitchen. I turned around and busied myself with a few dishes. The number of times I was temped to turn around was almost too much to handle. I finally hear him clear his throat. I was relieved to see him in his dressing gown as he held out his bloody clothes to me. After putting them in the wash, I returned to the kitchen to feed Toby before bed. Sherlock was still sitting at the kitchen table.

"Where were you?" he asked as I was pouring the cat food into Toby's bowl.

"I was putting your clothes in the wash…" I answered, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Before you came back to the flat," he said with a frustrated sigh.

"I, uh, I was out having drinks with a friend," I said, shifting uneasily under his gaze.

"Obviously," he said rolling his eyes.

Something in me snapped.

"Well what the bloody hell are you asking me for then? And speaking of 'where were you,' why don't you tell me what in the hell you've been the last couple days? You didn't even send me a single text. You could have been dead. I was so worried, I was-" the tears became to strong to hold back and I began to sob. All the worry of the last few days and the fear that shook me the moment I saw him covered in blood, all of it hit me at once. I was shaking and sobbing standing in the middle of my kitchen. Wrapping my arms around myself, I tried to calm down but I only cried harder. I nearly jumped when I felt two arms wrap around me. I buried my head into Sherlock's chest, his dressing gown was slightly open and I could feel the skin of his chest against my face, and I let the tears flow out. I'd been such a mess for so long that I needed to just cry it all out. It felt good. It felt like a cathartic release of everything single thing I had bottled up. Not just for the past couple days but for months of Sherlock in my home and the unrequited feelings I had for him before that. I eventually stopped crying and pulled myself together. I stepped away from Sherlock's arms.

"Thank you," I said nodding and keeping my tone calm.

"Molly, I-"

"Don't ruin it," I added turning around and going into my room.

The second I closed my bedroom door behind me, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. He smelled even better than I had ever imagined.


	7. Chapter 7

*** **I do not own any of these characters.** Sherlock Holmes voluntarily giving someone a comforting embrace?! Molly must face the reality of the previous night's events. Will Sherlock come to love Molly after comforting her or will he return to treating her so abashedly? Reviews are appreciated! Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed and liked my story. You're all lovely people and I wish you all good fortune and a bountiful harvest.***

7

I was nervous beyond reason the moment I woke up. I'd have to face him and he would tear down any thoughts I had about the embrace he gave me last night. But in my foolishness, I wanted to believe that there was some reason for it. In all the time that I've known him, he has not once made any physical contact with me. Now he'd kissed me once and held me during my mental breakdown. Even Sherlock Holmes couldn't convince me that it meant nothing.

I took a shower and spent a little extra time looking nice. If I was going to face him, I better look good doing it.

I gave myself another short pep talk before marching out into the living room. I jumped when I saw him laying on the couch. For as brave as I was, I had secretly been hoping that I wouldn't find him in my flat.

He sat up, clearly having deduced that I had come on a mission. I sat in the large overstuffed recliner, facing him. I could feel my courage draining so I knew I'd have to act fast.

"Where have you been the last couple days?" I ask him directly.

"Following a lead on one of Moriarty's men," he answered just as bluntly.

"How did you get hurt?"

"A minor miscalculation of mine. Won't happen again."

I sighed but declined to question him further on that particular front.

"Why were you angry with me last night?"

"As much as I desire an alternative, I rely on you. I needed your services and you were not there-"

"At you beck and call? Oh my, how very inconvenient for you," I drawled out sarcastically.

"I'm not your servant, Sherlock. I'm you friend," I said as calmly as I could manage.

He looked momentarily shocked but I watched as he considered my words.

"I realize that I'm not John, but we need to try a little harder. I can let you run off and not be so upset when I don't hear from you, but you need to treat me like a human being and not a provider of services-"

I was cut off as Sherlock took the few steps between us and kissed me on the lips.

In a moment, that I instantly regret, I shoved him away.

"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?" I ask incredulously.

"You seemed angry," he stated, as if he thought nothing of it.

"And you decided that kissing me was the best solution to this?"

"Based on how your pulse tends to quicken in my vicinity, and you demonstrate other signs of arousal quite frequently, I calculated that you would find the kiss pleasurable," he said, with a hint of confusion in his voice.

"arousal?" I squeaked.

I shook my head and stood up.

"This is too far, even for someone as 'socially inept' as you, Sherlock Holmes. You kiss someone because you like them not as a way to shut them up. I'm going to leave and spend the day with Mary. I suggest for your own safety that you not be in this flat when I return," I said with venom in my voice.

Without even looking at him, I stood up and grabbed my things before stomping out the front door.

As soon as I sat in the back of the cab, my fingers traced my lips. The idea that his had been there was only now sinking in. As furious as I was, I couldn't help but think of how soft his lips had been.


	8. Chapter 8

*** **I do not own any of these characters.** Another big blow up between Sherlock and Molly has left another rift between the two. How will this dynamic duo ever come together now? (sorry it's so short but I promise to make the next one much longer) Reviews are very much appreciated :) ***

8

I was a strange mix of relieved and disappointed when I returned to my flat that night and found it Sherlock-less. In my mind, I had this scenario where he's apologize profusely and proclaim his undying love. Perhaps I'd been reading too many romance novels. I took a quick shower and got into bed.

I was woken up but Sherlock shaking me.

"Molly, molly! Wake up! You're having a nightmare," he said, trying to calm me down.

I was covered in sweat and I felt nauseous. Clutching onto Sherlock, I took deep breaths.

"It was awful, they were shooting at us and we were running but then they got you. You were covered in blood and suddenly you were on my operating table. They wanted me to operate on you but I couldn't. I just couldn't!" I whispered with the panic apparent in my voice.

He stood next to the bed until my breathing calmed. I laid back down on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. He started to walk towards my bedroom door when I spoke up.

"I don't want to have another nightmare. Will you stay?" I asked, still staring up the ceiling. It was silent for a long moment before I felt him lay on my bed. He laid down on top of the duvet on the other side of the bed.

For a moment, I wondered if I could rest my head on his chest but I decided not to push my luck. Instead, I turned on my side, facing away from him and fell back asleep.

I woke up and felt very warm. I looked around and realized that there was an asleep Sherlock lying right next to me. I must have scooted closer to him in my sleep. I practically had to restrain my hand from brushing a few of those beautiful curls from his face. I turned on my side to face him completely. For several minutes, I just took in all his beauty. My eyelids were heavy and I eventually let sleep reclaim me.


	9. Chapter 9

*** **I do not own any of these characters.** Could asking Sherlock to stay with her open his eyes? Or will this be just another case of Sherlock's post-affection rebuffs? It's high time Molly had a little revenge. Thank you guys so much for all your wonderful reviews and I'm seriously taking your critiques and ideas and using them as best as I can. Reviews are appreciated :) ***

9

I woke up alone. Instantly, I felt angry at myself for feeling the least bit shocked. There's a small part of me that hoped he'd still be here in the morning. A foolish part of me. I lay in bed, thinking through what had happened the night before. It was so stupid of me to ever dream of asking him that. I was still so angry at him about everything but it just felt right to have him there beside me. With Sherlock lying beside me, even though we weren't even touching, I finally had my first peaceful night's sleep in weeks. I decided to put away my thoughts since there were just too many to deal with on a Sunday morning. Getting out of bed, I took a quick shower and walked out into the living room. Sherlock was gone, but on my coffee table there was a note.

"Back later," I read the note aloud. Well that was kind of him, I thought, studying the note closely. His hand writing is so stylized. Incredibly messy, but stylized.

This is a start, I think as I grab my purse and leave my apartment.

Around 10pm, I'm curled on the couch with Toby, fully engrossed into yet another romance novel. Fair maiden was enraptured with the aloof and mysterious count who paid her no mind. Sounds familiar, I mused with a grimace. I The door unlocked and I looked up to see Sherlock enter my apartment with a dozen roses. My heart soared but I fought to keep calm.

"Molly," he said shoving them into my hands, causing me to drop my book. He was digging in his pocket for something.

My smile was huge and I opened my mouth to thank him when he yanked them back.

"I think I know how he died!" he exclaimed before walking towards the kitchen.

"He poisoned the flowers. I just need to figure out how it worked."

My heart sank as I realized the flowers were part of his experiment.

Grudgingly, I picked my book back up and resumed reading. A few chapters later, I heard Sherlock call my name.

"Molly. I need you stand here," he said, suddenly pulling me out of the chair and towards the front door. I need to see the scratch patterns, so I'm going to enter the front door and hand you the bouquet and I'm going to need you to hit me with them."

"Why on earth would I do that?"

"Isn't it obvious? He poisoned the flowers to kill her but she was so upset that she hit him with the flowers, killing him with the poison intended for her. I need to make sure the scratch marks are conclusive," He said quickly moving to stand in front of me.

He handed me the flowers.

"Thanks," I said sarcastically before swatting him with them.

"For goodness sake Molly. I'm supposed to be a man who has wronged you and has brought you these flowers as a pitiful excuse for an apology and you are a woman who has been slighted and is so furious that she tries to beat him senseless with the flowers. Put in a little effort for goodne-"

I cut him off my bashing him with the flowers in the face. My pent up anger flooded to the surface and I continued attacking him until I felt his hands on my wrists.

"Good lord molly! You really ought to get a punching bag," he said taking the roses from me and moving back towards the kitchen.

"I'm pretty sure a gun would be better," I muttered before picking up my book and going to bed.


	10. Chapter 10

*** **I do not own any of these characters.** At least Molly was able to vent out a bit of her frustration but will she pay the price for it? Sherlock's up to his old scheme and railroads the poor pathologist. Your feedback has been so amazing :) Reviews are always much appreciated. ***

10

I was eating breakfast at the kitchen table, when Sherlock came in the front door holding a large box.

I raised an eyebrow but continued to eat, deciding that asking him any questions would prove too exhausting.

"I'll need to come with you to Bart's today," he said walking into the kitchen.

"No," I answered quickly, refusing to even look up to him.

"I have a lead, and I'll need access to two of the bodies on your list for today," he said, ignoring my flat out refusal.

I put my dish in the sink and went to finish getting ready. Sherlock followed me through the living room but I closed the door to my bedroom. For a second, I contemplated climbing out the fire escape but remembered that there's about a ten foot drop at the bottom. I guess no fire escape then, I thought glumly. Quickly, I took a shower and got dressed. When I walked back into the living room, I screamed. There was a tall blonde man with an equally blonde mustache standing by my bookshelf.

"Molly! Stop screaming! It's me!" came the voice of Sherlock coming from a man who certainly did not look like Sherlock.

Wordlessly, I grabbed my purse and left my apartment.

As I hailed a cab, Sherlock came to stand next to me.

"You're not coming," I said, as a cab pulled up.

He opened the door for me and then slid in after I stepped into the cab.

"They aren't going to even let you in," I added staring out the window.

"I've got it covered," he answered in a strange voice. I turned to face him as he held out a 's badge to me with the name Joseph Yezhov M.D. printed on it.

"I'm not going to ask you where you got that and I'm definitely not going to let you come into the morgue with me and that's final."

An hour later, I stood beside Sherlock as he examined the second of the two bodies that he had requested to see.

"There must be a connection. They both have the strangest bruises but what are they from? There has to be some clue that these two were murdered by the same person for the same reason," he said, with an air of exasperation in his voice.

"Sherlock, you have to leave now. I let you examine them. Now get going," I said trying to sound assertive as I walked towards the door and held it open for him.

He walked out into the hallway and turned back to look at me.

"If you find anything else, text me," he said before turning to leave.

"Yeah sure, why don't I just package them up and ship them to you," I said arcastically.

"Molly!" he yelled, a smile on his face.

"You're a amazing," he said grabbing my face and planting a kiss on my lips. He pulled away and a strange look flashed across his face before the turned and bolted out of the hospital.

"Molly?" came a voice from behind me.

"Oh, hi Joaquin," I said, feeling the heat in my face.

"Who was that?"

"Sher- Joseph Yezhov. My… intern." I said fighting back a giggle from calling the great Sherlock Holmes my intern.

Joaquin raised an eyebrow.

"My overly affectionate intern," I added.

"Well since he's just an intern, I thought I'd ask you if you wanted to grab dinner tonight after work," he said, turning a slight shade of pink.

"Of course!" I chirped happily before having to apologize and rush back into the morgue to get started on my work.

"Sherlock the intern," I said out loud before nearly doubling over in a fit of laughter.


	11. Chapter 11

***** I do not own any of these characters.** Except for Joaquin Norfleet. Another exciting date for Molly! But will this one turn out better than the last? All the reviews have been so supportive and I just love you all so much. Sorry if this chapter seems a little short :( Reviews are always appreciated! ***

11

I was in my office fixing my makeup when I heard a knock at the door.

"It's open," I say as I put the finishing touches on my mascara.

"you look lovely, Ms. Hooper," says Joaquin as he smiles broadly at me.

I blush furiously and stare at the floor.

"Are you ready?" he asks, extending his hand.

I gladly take hold of his proffered hand and follow him outside to a cab.

The cab takes us to a nice restaurant fifteen minutes away.

"Swanky," I whistle as we both walk in.

"I try," he grins back at me.

We're both seated when I feel that all too familiar buzz. I purposefully ignore it. He will not interrupt my dinner.

Joaquin and I are chatting and start to enter more serious conversations about awful past relationships when my phone buzzes again. Angrily, I take it out of my purse and look at the text messages

"I'm so sorry but I just couldn't take the buzzing anymore," I say as means of an apology.

"Your flat mate?" he asks, concern in his voice.

I don't reply because Sherlock's messages have made me so upset that I can made no sound.

*Do not trust the doctor –SH*

*He is an alcoholic –SH*

*It's obvious from his jacket cuff -SH*

I furiously look around the room.

"Problem?" Joaquin asks, more calm then I am.

"I think that bloody bastard is spying on me" I mutter deciding to stop looking for Sherlock.

"I'm sorry Joaquin. Let's just get back to out meal. I'm going to just shut off this stupid mobile," I say quickly before shutting off my phone and stuffing it into my purse.

The conversation slowly returns to normal but I remain cautions and tense. I make sure to never let anything I say become too personal in case that psychotic maniac is still eavesdropping on my date.

"So you love him," rang Joaquins voice through my thoughts.

"Pardon?" I sputter, trying to remain composed.

"You are in love with your flatmate. Yes?" he said, causing me to turn bright red.

"No, yes, no, maybe, it's… it's complicated," I finally concede.

''What's so complicated about it? Aside from the fact that he's not most pleasant texter," said Joaquin with a quiet chuckle.

"Is it possible to love someone and hate them at the same time?" I asked with a sigh.


	12. Chapter 12

*** **I do not own any of these characters.** Except for Joaquin Norfleet. The young doctor fails to woo Molly as he comes to realize where her heart truly lies. But will he be the catalyst to bring these two together? Will Joaquin give Molly the secret to finding Sherlock's heart? Reviews are always appreciated :) ***

12

"Well I guess plenty of people have had love/hate relationships," Joaquin said trying to comfort me.

"I am just so sorry, Joaquin. I Know it must be bloody awful for me to be sitting her crying over my roommate on *our* date," I said, reaching across the table to touch his hand.

"It's far better that I find out now then walk-in on you shagging him in a few months," he said, half laughing.

"Oh it's not like that at all," I said, far more glum than I had intended.

"It's more like me mooning over him while he treats me abominably," I added, resting my chin on my palm with my elbow propped up on the table.

"So he doesn't reciprocate your feelings?"

"Oh god no," I said, my stomach dropping.

"Well we've all been there before," he replied, raising his glass in a mock toast before taking a sip.

"Yeah, I don't think anyone has ever been in a love-hate relationship with anyone like my flatmate before. You could say he's one of a kind," I said, taking a big gulp from my own glass.

"I was in love with one girl for all of medical school because she lent me her pencil the first day of classes. I don't think she ever even looked at me ever again. She had no idea I existed. So believe me Molly Hooper, when I tell you that you're not the only one who's been stuck in a hopeless one-sided romance." Joaquin explained, leaning over the table towards me.

"And have you moved on?" I asked.

"Well, I did ask you out on a date so I thought that'd be evidence enough," he added with a wink.

"And again, I'm really sorry about ruining our date. But, how exactly did you move on?" I asked, intrigued.

"Well, I realized that in my mind I had built up this grand scenario and that she was my reason for existence and that I needed her like I needed air to breathe. But one day, it finally hit me. I may want her, but I certainly don't need her. The whole grand Romeo and Juliet love thing is grand and all but real love it's not two puzzle pieces fitting together. You are a whole complete person in your own right and you don't need anyone to 'complete' you. I had to learn to be happy with myself as a whole.," he said, leaning back in his chair.

"That… was… genius!" I exclaimed, applauding Joaquin.

"I know that all sounded a bit preachy, but every word is genuine," he added, smiling at me.

"I want him, but I don't need him," I whispered to myself before taking another drink of my wine.


	13. Chapter 13

***** I do not own any of these characters.** Molly's new mantra has changed the game. Can her new outlook on life finally land her the man she's always dreamed of? Or will her new mindset lead her on a new path of love? Reviews are always appreciated and you're all just fantastic! ***

13

My "date" with Joaquin had left my mind buzzing. I continuously asked myself if I felt complete. There was a part of me that had always felt that I needed Sherlock to be happy but Joaquin was right- I don't _need_ Sherlock. I _want _ him and I want him to _want_ me. But being hung up on him like a lovesick puppy was clearly no good for anyone. For the first time in my life, I was going to put myself first. And I knew just where to start.

Sherlock (wisely) chose to stay away from my flat the night after my date and the next morning. As soon as I got to work, I called Mary and asked her to meet me during lunch at the dress shop we had gone to before Joaquin and I went on our first date. She questioned my urgency but I explained that it was a long story and that I'd fill her in later. I set to work but couldn't help but feel excited for my lunch break.

At exactly noon, I ditched the morgue and took a cab to the boutique. Mary was already waiting outside. As soon as I jumped out of the cab, I launched into full detail about the events of the previous night. After I finished she asked me what the boutique had to do with it so I grabbed her hand and dragged her inside.

"The sexy dress?" she asked incredulously as I held it up.

"But I thought you said it was something you'd never be able to wear," she quickly added.

"Exactly! But I'll never be happy until I start pushing myself into the unknown!" I exclaimed, charging into the dressing room to try it on.

Mary was speechless when I came out of the dressing room.

"Is it that bad?" I asked, feeling panicked.

"Molly... you look utterly gorgeous!" gushed Mary, causing me to instantly turn red. She grabbed my shoulders and shoved me towards the mirror.

The tiny red dress that I had only seen days before, and had instantly labeled as something I'd never even try on, had transformed me into someone I'd never recognize. I was standing taller and my figure looked amazing.

"I swear to god Molly Hooper, you better buy this damn dress," said Mary, still amazed at how it looked.

I nodded my head and had to pull myself away from the full length mirrors to change back into my regular clothing. After I left the dressing room, I asked Mary to help me pick out a few new clothes that I could wear to work. New molly needs a brand new wardrobe because it was time to stop hiding. Stop hiding behind the baggy clothes. Stop hiding being the forced smiles and pleasantries, Stop hiding and start living. Because I don't _need_ Sherlock Holmes anymore. It's time to make _him_ want _me_.


	14. Chapter 14

***** I do not own any of these characters.** Okay ladies and gentleman, it's time for sherlolly to really get started. Molly has been through quite a transformation and now her courage and strength in the face of everything Sherlock has ever put her through is about to pay off… Will she get the consulting detective or will she finally move on? Reviews are simply the best thing and they bring me tears of joy! Happy reading! ***

14

Mary had invited me to dinner with her and Martin and some friend of hers tonight. A perfect opportunity to wear some of the new clothes I bought today. We'd even decided to completely revamp my entire wardrobe the coming weekend. I was excited and ready to start living!

I rushed home after work to start getting ready. Sherlock was sitting in the living room when I rushed in. Nodding at him for the briefest of seconds, I darted into my room and shut the door. I had no time to waste and immediately went to take a shower and get ready. I finished with five minutes before Mary was going to meet me downstairs in a cab. I stolled out into the living room. Wearing a brand new blue dress. Dinner wasn't going to be very formal so my sexy new red dress would have to wait.

"New dress. Who's your new date? Can't be the alcoholic, you wouldn't spend that kind of money for a third date," Sherlock said, seeming to not even look up from his paper.

"I don't know who he is. Mary has set us up. This dress is just part of my new wardrobe," I said smiling up at him.

He looked momentarily at me but they quickly back to his paper.

"Why do women waste so much money on clothes. Men never care about that as far as I can tell," he added continuing to read his paper.

"These new clothes aren't to impress him or any other man. They're just to make me happy and to make me feel good," I said smiling bigger before grabbing my purse and leaving the apartment. Before I shut the front door, I turned to him and added, "You might not want to be here tonight just in case I end up bringing someone back with me." I winked at him as he raised one eyebrow and they quickly shut the door and ran downstairs.

I knew he wouldn't be satisfied with that answer and he certainly didn't know what to do with the last bit of information I threw at him before leaving for dinner. He'd initially chalk it up to "sentiment" but sooner or later, he'll need to understand.

I greeted Mary in the cab and couldn't hold in the laughter that burst it's way out. Sherlock Holmes was not the least bit prepared for what the new Molly Hooper was going to do to him.

Dinner was really very good. John laughed heartily and I could see a little bit of his former light back in his eyes. Mary was good for him and he in turn made her glow with happiness. They'd only been on three dates but they were mad for each other already. My date was very nice man named Ben that worked with Mary. He was my age and had recently come back from traveling the world. The stories he told were wonderful- ranging from scary thrillers of near death experiences to embarrassing faux pas from stumbling through ancient customs of far off lands. I felt a little crush forming but that could have been the three glasses of wine.

We all parted ways after dinner. I smiled to myself in the cab as I looked at my new contact in my Mobile. Ben had asked to exchange numbers and I gladly handed him my cell phone. New Molly was already off to a great start.

I stumbled my way up the stairs to my flat and after rummaging with my keys for several minutes, I finally unlocked the door and tumbled inside my flat.

"I thought you were bringing someone home," Sherlock said with a hint of sarcasm as he sat on the couch playing his violin.

"And yet you're still here. Hoping I'd share, eh?" I replied, giggling like mad.

I sat in the armchair and struggled to take off my shoes. My hands get shaky when I drink so I eventually gave up and leaned back.

To my complete and utter shock, Sherlock put down his violin and moved to undo the straps on my high heels. I held my breath as I watched him first remove one then the other, setting them both on the ground next to me.

"Well, thanks I guess," I said grabbing them both and walking towards my room. I looked back at him and added, "and clean the bloody kitchen. You always leave it such a mess," before closing the bedroom door behind me.

Score one for Molly Hooper. The game is afoot!


	15. Chapter 15

*** **I do not own any of these characters.** New Molly has finally gained the confidence to grab life by the horns. Sherlock Holmes has no idea what is coming his way. Will the petite pathologist ever get her dream date with her dream man? Reviews are always appreciated :) ***

15

The next morning, Sherlock and I were at the kitchen table. He was pointedly ignoring me while I hummed and ate breakfast.

"Could you stop that now? Your humming is impairing my thoughts," he snapped.

"Don't you think it's going to be a lovely day," I replied, intent on not giving him the reaction he was looking for.

"It's going to be bright and there will be too many people out. Not at all a lovely day." He replied sullenly.

"I have the night shift at work so what about we go for a walk and some shopping and maybe even stop in at that new cafe, yeah? Me and you in your lovely Joseph Yezhov M.D. disguise. We'll make a day of it. Besides you need some normal social interaction," I said leaning against the kitchen counter, staring at him.

He looked up from what he was doing and eyed me suspiciously.

"And why would I want to do any of that? It serves absolutely no purpose," he said trying to understand my motives.

"Well, it'll be good for you-"

"Arguable," he interrupted.

"You need to eat-"

"Unnecessary-" he interrupted again.

"And it would make me happy," I finished, staring at him.

He was silent for a moment.

"Very well," he assented.

I smiled brightly at him before rushing off to get ready before he could change his mind. No time could be wasted to ponder why Sherlock Holmes had agreed to something because of my happiness.

An hour later, we strolled down the street.

"So what should I call you, doctor?" I said, unable to conceal my fit of giggles. "Do you prefer Joseph, Joey, or Jo. Oh or perhaps even Doctor J?" I added mockingly.

Sherlock Holmes cracked the briefest of smiles before quickly composing himself. I refused to let myself get sidetracked by it. That would have been a pitfall of old molly.

"Joseph will do just fine," He said feigning a stoic face.

I stepped directly in front of him.

"Doctor Molly Hooper, pleasure to make your acquaintance," I said holding my hand out to him.

Unable to hide his smile, it reappeared as he shook my hand.

"The pleasure is all mine," he replied, enjoying himself.

Is the world's only consulting detective really flirting with me and smiling with me and just generally appearing to enjoy my company? Oh if there really is a god, I hope he never wakes me from this apparent dream. There's no way this could be real!

"Molly!" I heard my name being called from down the street. I turn to see John headed our way. My dream has quickly become a nightmare.


	16. Chapter 16

*** **I do not own any of these characters.**__Will the fear of exposure drive a wedge between these two right as their potential new relationship was forming? How will our protagonists ever get together? Perhaps the stars will align soon for these two crazy kids! Reviews are always appreciated ***

16

Fear rips through me as I watch John approach myself and the disguised Sherlock. There's no way his outfit will fool John. I panic and do the first thing that pops into my head. I grab Sherlock and shove him towards a parked cab, loudly saying, "You're going to be late for your internship, but I'll see you at work tonight."

Sherlock nods and quickly gets in the cab and covers his face as John gets near. I give John a tight hug while motioning for the cab to drive away.

"Who was that young fellow," John asks, arching his eyebrow suggestively.

I playfully punch him in the arm. "Just my intern," I answer laughing to cover up my shakiness from experiencing such a close call.

I spend the next hour with John talking and grabbing lunch at one of my favorite cafés. Eventually, I grow tired of walking and say goodbye to john before returning to my flat. I walked in and my heart sank a little to find that Sherlock hadn't returned. Our day out had been going so well but I guess we shouldn't have been so reckless to go gallivanting around during the day. But what were the odds of running into John, I think as I go get ready for my night shift.

When I get Bart's, I go to the morgue and grab my paperwork and head into my little office. I stare down at one of my files, reading the list for the cadavers I'll be dealing with during my shift. Still staring at my papers, I enter my office and sit in my chair. I look up and jump a little in surprise to see Sherlock, still in his MD outfit, leaning against one of the bookcases in my office.

I immediately jump up and walk over to him, apologizing profusely.

"I'm just so sorry! I should never have put you at risk like that. It was stupid and-"

"He cut me off by closing the door of my office and backing me against it.

"I've encountered a slight… problem, Miss Hopper," he said staring straight at me.

I gulped. "What sort of problem?" I whisper, suddenly unable to breathe normally.

"I've been dealing with… emotions, lately and I don't understand them nor do I know how to make them stop," he replied, stepping a little closer to me.

"And why are you asking me for help with this?" I asked, concentrating on maintaining normal breathing.

"Because you seem to be the cause. I found myself overcome by the strangest emotion after I was forced to leave our walk this morning." He said slowly, inching ever closer.

He stood inches away and his face began to lean towards mine.

Suddenly I jumped as my phone began to loudly ring. Staring at Sherlock, I slipped my hand into my pocket and answered my phone.

"Hello?" I asked, breathily.

"Molly?"

"Yes. Who is this?"

"It's Ben."

"Oh… Hello Ben," I said, breaking eye contact with Sherlock.

"Hi. I was wondering if you wanted to grab a drink tomorrow night?" he asked.

I looked at Sherlock but he gave away no signs as to what was going through his mind.

"I'd love to. Tomorrow night at 7 at that new bar we talked about?"

"Sure!"

"See you then," I said hanging up and sliding the phone back in my pocket.

Sherlock straightened himself up tall. Somehow he looked almost taller than usual. His blazing expression now returned to the wall of ice.

"I have to. If I don't agree, Mary will find out and start asking questions. I've already put you at risk once and I refuse to do it again," I said, trying to explain.

"Whatever makes you happy, Miss Hooper," He said before leaving the morgue.

I sat back down at my desk and put my head in my hands.


	17. Chapter 17

*** I do not own any of these characters. Okay kiddies, I'm on a long train ride so be prepared for a nice long chapter full of intrigue and missed connections. Molly's attempts to keep Sherlock's secret appear to only be pulling them apart but will the consulting detective believe the pathologist's true intentions in going on another date with Ben? Reviews are appreciated ***

17

I pulled myself together and buried myself in my work. Every once in a while, I'd have an errant thought but I locked it down immediately. I had too much to do to get sidetracked. 2 am could not come quickly enough.

I rushed home and started sobbing the moment I realized Sherlock was gone. How could I have been so stupid. It was finally happening. Or was it? Was he really going to kiss me? The very thought seemed so insane. Sherlock Holmes- who had ignored me, abused me, and been completely awkward around me anytime anything the least bit emotional arose- has been about to kiss _me_.

I tried to fix a quick "dinner" but I was crying so hard that I gave up and threw myself on my bed.

Sleep was impossible. I just laid in my bed and tried to think calming thoughts but somehow everything kept coming back around to be about Sherlock. My racking sobs returned as I mourned my one chance for something to happen between Sherlock and myself.

Suddenly, I heard my bedroom door creak open. I tried to stifle my sobs to limit my embarrassment but it proved fruitless. I felt the bed lower slightly at his added weight. Sherlock laid down next to me but just like last time, he didn't touch me as he laid atop the duvet. My mind raced and I was about to speak when he broke the silence first.

"for goodness sake Molly, don't speak. Just get some sleep." He said softly. Although his words were a bit harsh, he said them in a kind whisper.

I didn't reply but closed my eyes and slowly my sobbing dissipated and I fell into a calm sleep.

I woke up and peeked my eye open. It was still early and there was only one tiny beam of light poking through the opening in the curtain. Sherlock was asleep and his hand was on top of mine. I had to hold my breath to hold back the giggle and overwhelming excitement that tried to burst forth. I reluctantly closed my eyes and did a few breathing exercises and eventually fell back into a happy sleep.

When I woke again, I prepped myself before opening my eyes. Okay Molly, he isn't going to be there when you open your eyes. He never is so for the love of god, do not get your hopes up you stupid girl. Slowly, I opened my eyes and was unable to stifle a gasp of surprise when I saw Sherlock sitting upright at the bottom corner of my bed. He clearly had taken a shower and changed. He was studying me intensely.

"Why did your brows furrow moments before you opened your eyes?" he asked, clearly at a loss.

"I'm going to make breakfast," I say, getting up and putting on my dressing gown before leaving the bedroom and heading into the kitchen with Sherlock in tow.

"Would you like some pancakes?" I asked, not turning around to face him as I fished out the ingredients from the cupboards. I heard one of the kitchen chairs scraping across the kitchen floor as he sat in it. I took that as a yes. I busied myself with making breakfast and hummed to myself.

When I turned around to put his plate on the table, I saw that he was again studying me very closely. I grabbed my own plate and sat down opposite him at the kitchen table.

"Why did you furrow your brows?" he asked again, his face unreadable.

"I, uh, was preparing myself," I replied stabbing my pancakes with my fork before shoving a mouthful into my mouth. I was extremely hungry since I hadn't eaten since lunch with John the day before.

"I see nothing for you to prepare for," he said before examining his own pancakes.

"I didn't think you'd still be in my room when I opened my eyes. I didn't want to get my hopes up," I whispered, turning bright red and feeling the heat in my face.

"You weren't there in the morning last time and I've no reason to expect you to stay in my bed. I was just being silly," I continued, not sure how to stop my mouth from spilling out all this insane information. I sounded crazy, even to myself.

It was quiet for a long time as we both ate our breakfast.

"I can find no real reason for staying either," he finally said, break the silence.

"But you did," I said, suddenly upset thought I was unsure as to why it was so intense.

"But I did," he admitted before taking another bite of pancake.

"Look Sherlock," I said standing up and taking my plate to the sink, "don't bother taking pity on me or whatever it is that you're doing."

He looked momentarily confused but quickly replaced his expression with the usual wall of ice.

"Sherlock, don't be angry. I'm happy with you joining me last night. It really confuses me and freaks me out but It made me happy," I pleaded with him, hoping to break down that ice wall.

He appeared to be taking in this information.

"I have a lead," he said suddenly, "I'll be gone for a while. Weeks, maybe even months," he added standing up.

"If you need anything at all, don't hesitate to let me know. Anything to clear your name, Sherlock," I said as I walked over towards him.

"Thank you Molly," he murmured looking down at me.

Ever so slowly he lowered his lips towards mine and gave me the swiftest of kisses. He pulled away and looked me in the eye before pulling me closer to him and giving me a deep strong kiss. I was breathless and speechless when he let go. Without another word he left my flat. That was the last I heard from Sherlock Holmes for four months.


	18. Chapter 18

***** I do not own any of these characters.** Just an important note dudes, I'm up in Santa Cruz with my sister this week (and she has no internet so I'm at a hipster coffee shop right now) and then up in Oregon (which is too damn forest-y for wifi) for the Shakespeare festival for a week. So I apologize in advance for the likelihood that I will be posting the next couple chapters a little far and apart. I promise to try to fatten them up a little so that it won't seem like such a long wait. You're all dolls and I appreciate all the likes/follows/reviews that have been pouring in! ***

18

The rational part of my brain had given him up for dead. Not a single peep in four months. Surely, he must be dead. But that crazy part of me hung on. Even through it all and even though I knew in my heart that we'd never be together, I just wanted that stupid bastard to be alive. Because, for reasons I'll never be able to understand, that mental man makes me happy. However, as the months went on, it seemed wrong to let my entire happiness depend on one potentially dead man.

Ben and I had just returned from our first mini-break as a couple when I finally saw Sherlock. I'd been staying most nights at Ben's apartment because it felt too empty to stay at my place. But since I had to drop off some of the clothes I had taken with me for my mini-break in Paris, I had to return to my flat.

My heart fluttered when I saw that long black coat laying on my couch and I heard the shower running. I went into my room and began unpacking my things.

"Molly," I heard my name and turned towards the bathroom to see Sherlock standing there with a towel wrapped around his waist. I practically had to drag my eyes back up to his face.

"Ah, freshly returned from a ski trip in france. The fresh air has done wonders for your complexion," he said deducing everything from my appearance and my luggage.

"It's good to see you again," I said grinning, "And I'm very relieved you aren't dead. Oh how I wish you'd at least send me one sign that you were alive all that time, I… I-" my smile faded and the tears rushed forth. I rushed up to him and buried my face in his chest. He hesitantly placed his arm around me.

I stopped my sniffling and slowly looked up at him. His breathing had become unsteady and our lips were inches apart. I could feel his breath on my face. It was intoxicationg.

*Knock Knock* came a pounding at the door.

"Molly, darling, you left your purse in the cab," came Ben's voice from the other side of the door.

I shoved Sherlock back into the bathroom and raced out of the bedroom closing the door behind me.

Opening the door, I saw Ben standing there holding my purse.

"Oh thank you!" I said grabbing my bag from him.

"Darling, why don't we just stay here tonight and I'll just take my stuff to my flat tomorrow," he asked handing me the purse.

"I can't," I said quickly. "I mean, I've just got a message from my intern, so I can't stay with you tonight," I said more calmly then before.

Ben looked upset but then said, "I completely understand. Call you tomorrow," he said giving me a kiss on the lips before heading downstairs.

I closed the front door and leaned my head against it. I took a deep breath before turning around to see Sherlock standing in the doorway to my bedroom.

"I always miss something," he said as the ice wall appeared.


	19. Chapter 19

*** **I do not own any of these characters.** I'm still in the hipster coffee shop so I'll try to fit in a few more chapters before my laptop dies. Hope you enjoy and thank you so much for everyone who follows and reviews :) ***

19

"You weren't here…" I trailed off quickly as I realized that I didn't really have an argument. I had no reason to defend why I was with Ben. It seemed to have happened without my conscious thought about it. One day we were dating and the next I was staying at his place.

My face must have been betraying my inner conflict because Sherlock was studying me closely when I snapped back to reality and looked at him.

"I missed you," I whispered taking a step towards him but his ice wall was too intimidating so I took a step back. There was a flash of an unknown emotion across his face as he watched me move away from him. I'd think it was sadness if he hadn't been right back to the ice wall before I even knew what had happened.

I turned to walk into the kitchen to make myself a cup of tea when I heard his voice.

"I'm very near to clearing my name," he said quickly.

I turned around and beamed at him. As tense as this moment was, I was so happy for him. He'd been in the shadow and away from John and the life that he had built for himself for so long and I wanted nothing more then for him to have that life back as soon as possible. Even if it meant leaving me.

"There's only two loose ends left to tie up," he added, not looking at me.

"Can I help?" I asked, wanting to hurry this up.

"No," he said sharply.

A strange laugh began in the gut of my stomach and erupted out.

He looked at me quizzically as I held my stomach to keep from doubling over in an absolute fit of laughter.

"You sounded like a chastising parent with an errant child," I managed to choke out between bouts of giggles. I made sure not to make it obvious that I saw a small piece of the the ice melt away. He was slowly calming back down.

"Well, come on then," I said, composing myself and walking into the kitchen, "regale me with tales of your adventures in far off lands or whatever you were doing for four months, without sending me a single sign to know that you were alive," I said turning to face him with a scolding glance as I walked towards the kettle.

The next day at work, I felt the familiar buzzing in my pocket. Had I actually missed it, I thought to myself. I was angry at myself for feeling disappointed when it was a text from Ben but before I could even read his text, I received one from Sherlock.

*I need your help on the case tonight – SH*

I quickly replied back that I'd meet him at my apartment as soon as my shift was over. Remembering that there was a text from Ben, I opened it.

*Don't forget about dinner with my parents tonight. Ben*

Oh god. Mondays.


	20. Chapter 20

*** ** I do not own any of these characters.** I'm having a little bit of writers block so these chapters are a bit short but never fear, I'm slowly forming the plot of this story and it's going to get very action packed within the next few chapters so hold on tight kiddos. A big thank you to everyone who follows/reviews ***

20

I dialed Ben's cell number, trying to keep my tone normal and my breathing steady. I was half hope that he wouldn't pick up and that I'd just get to leave my shit apology and excuse on his voicemail but to no avail, he picked up on the fourth ring.

"Hello darling," he chimed happily.

"er yes, hello Ben," I said, trying to sound calm.

"Is anything the matter," he said sounding alarmed.

Shit. He already knows there's a problem. Shit shit shit shit!

"No problem at all, but I'm afraid I can't make dinner," I said impressed with my sudden calm manner. I suppose I have always done well under pressure.

"An old friend has come in from out of town and this is the only chance for me to have dinner before they leave town," I continued hoping my calm demeanor would last through the phone call.

"I understand," he said, clearly put off.

"Give your parents my apologies tonight and tell them that I will make it up to them by paying for dinner at a nice restaurant whenever we reschedule," I said trying to make up for my flaky escape.

"Of course darling," he said, sounding confused.

"well… goodbye," I said finally faltering.

"Goodbye," he said quickly before hanging up.

Well that just went bloody spectacularly. Sherlock better have a good reason for asking me to help him tonight.

When I got back to the flat, Sherlock was pacing the living room. He was already wearing his Joseph Yezhov disguise. But instead of the scubs and white coat, he was dressed impeccable in a nice tuxedo.

"Is this going to be an undercover assignment?" I asked bursting with excitement.

"It's all a bit 007, isn't it?" I continued, not giving him a chance to speak.

"Molly! We're going to the Medical Banquet tonight. Do you have anything that would suit the occasion?" he said, examining his cuff links.

My mind immediately went to the little red dress that had been hanging dormant in my closet since the day I had purchased it.

"I have just the thing," I winked before racing into my room to start getting ready.

As I took a shower and got ready, I had to contain myself from giggling like mad. What in the world would Sherlock think of my dress? I'd been dying to wear it in front of him. Maybe it can spark his interest? But I must not get my hopes up because I fully know that if any man were capable of ignoring an outfit this crazy. That man would be Sherlock Holmes. I finished curling my hair and doing my makeup before putting on my little red dress.

With as nonchalant an air as I could manage, I strolled out into the living room and walked to the side of the couch were Sherlock was sitting. Calmly, I lifted my leg to the arm rest to put on the strappy red high heels I had purchased to match the dress. Out of the corner of my eye I watched as Sherlock struggled to keep his eyes away from my leg. It was a fight he could not win. As I finished strapping up the second high heel, he was completely focused on me. With strength I didn't even know I possessed, I managed to keep my smile contained. With a straight face, I turned to him.

"Ready to go?" I asked.

He could only nod.

Another point scored for Molly Hooper!


	21. Chapter 21

*** **I do not own any of these characters.** Except for Joaquin Norfleet. Okay kiddos, I just mapped out the next few chapters and things are about to get pretty juicy so hold on to your hats ladies and gentleman! I apologize yet again for the sparse posting but I'm hoping these next three or so chapters will make up for it! Reviews/follows are just fantastic and bring me tears of joy! ***

21

Sherlock and I walked into the grand ballroom where the party was being held.

"This is certainly a bit on the fancy side," I said gazing around the huge room. It was beautifully decorated with large white paper lanterns, tons of twinkly little lights, and white silk tapestries. It was like being in a dream. And I was there with Sherlock. I pinched my arm, just make sure it was real.

"Has your pinch convinced you?" Sherlock asked, with his fake Joseph Yezhov accent.

"Yes," I replied sheepishly since I didn't think he'd notice. Of course _he'd_ notice.

Sherlock led me to the line where a large burly man asked for out invitations. Worriedly, I looked up at Sherlock. What were we going to do? He wasn't even a real doctor and I certainly wasn't invited. But true to Sherlock fashion, he smoothly pulled two invitations out of the inside of his jacket pocket and handed them to the man and if I'm not mistaken a note, but it couldn't see how much it was. Had Sherlock just bribed this man? With a nod of his head, both Sherlock and I moved into the room.

Before I could really even take notice of the people mingling and dancing in the large room, we were approached.

"Molly Hooper!" rang a happy voice.

"Joaquin?" I answered, surprised to see him at this party.

"Molly, darling, I had no idea you were coming to this little get together," he said smiling at me.

"Little?" I said in a higher pitched tone.

"And who is your charming date? Is this your intern?" he asked, remembering Joseph from the time he saw Sherlock kiss me in the hallway at Bart's.

"Er, uh, yes. This is my intern, Dr. Joseph Yezhov MD. He's training to be a pathologist too," I said quickly. I peaked over at Sherlock to see him raise an eyebrow.

"Pleasure," said Sherlock extending his hand to Joaquin.

Joaquin hesitantly shook the extended hand.

"Well, if you'll excuse me, I must start mingling," said Sherlock, studying Joaquin momentarily before disappearing into the crowd of people.

"What a strange fellow," Joaquin remarked.

"You have no idea," I said before waving down the waiter that was walking around with the drinks.

After talking with Joaquin and following his as he introduced me to countless doctors, he asked me to dance with him. I'd normally refuse but with four drinks under my belt, dancing seemed like a reasonable request.

We were dancing next to each other for the first fast song but suddenly a slow song came on and Joaquin pulled me close to him. It was awkward but I just shrugged and wrapped my arms around his neck as his encircled my waist. We swayed as he hummed the song in my ear. I sighed and rested my head on his shoulder. But the hair on the back of my neck instantly stood up as I felt his hands slide farther down my waist. I was about to make a remark when Joaquin moved away from me.

"I hope you can forgive me for interrupting," said Sherlock again in that ridiculous accent.

Joaquin seemed upset but nodded his head and moved away as Sherlock replaced him. I eagerly put my arms around his neck, although I had to reach them up pretty far since he's quite the giant. He wrapped me in his arms and the swaying resumed.

"My problem has returned Molly Hooper," Sherlock whispered in my ear.

"My emotions get in the way of all other thought. I was trying to feel out my leads when I saw his hands on you. Suddenly I couldn't even think a single thought other than marching over and demanding he leave and that you stay with me," he continued.

I was still fairly sure this was a dream so I was too afraid to speak and risk waking up from this wonderful scenario. For Sherlock Holmes, what he had just told me was the equivalent to a lovers plea.

I moved my head to stare into his beautiful green eyes.

"and there are other concerns, obviously," he said seeming nervous for the first time ever, "I don't believe Dr. Norfleet is to be trusted," he added.

"You're jealous," I said smiling.

"That's completely ridiculous and irrational," he said furrowing his eyebrows.

"You are jealous and I don't think I've ever been happier," I said absolutely beaming.

"You look gorgeous tonight," he said, clearly trying to change the subject.

I pulled his head down and kissed him as I ran my fingers through his hair. He pulled my body against his and kissed me deeper. We both eventually had to let go. As we were both breathing hard, he whispered in my ear, "Maybe I've underrated this emotion of jealousy."


	22. Chapter 22

***** I do not own any of these characters. **I must again apologize for not posting. Turns out that traveling for days in the forest leaves very little time to write and even less wifi. But since I'll be in the hostel for a couple days and they have decent wifi, I should be able to post at least a few more times.***

22

It seemed almost like a dream to be swept along with the kiss and music. If time could have stopped altogether, molly would have preferred to stay in that spot until the end of time. But as we all know, time stops for no one. In fact, as you may conclude, their lovers embrace was, as usual, cut short.

Suddenly I was torn from my inner monologue as I heard a gun shot mere yards away. Sherlock hastily pulled me against him in a protective manor and seconds later, the crowd opened up to see a man lying on the ground, bleeding, and the gunman in question running hastily away. Wasting not a moment, Sherlock booked it after the man. I stood there processing everything that had happened but I snapped into action once a woman started yelling for an ambulance. As I helped attend to the man I couldn't help but think how lucky this man was to get shot in a whole ball room full of medical professionals.

After the wounded man was carted off, I walked outside of the hotel to wave down a taxi. A black limo slowed down in front of me and I gawked at it. That's quite ominious, isn't it, I thought to myself. Two men dressed in black leaped out and pulled me in with them. I tried to scream but one of them covered my mouth and I tried to kick but the other grasped my legs and threw me in the limo. My head was quickly covered with a bag and my wrists and ankles were tied. Tears were streaming down my face but I tried to stay calm. It was in vain. I was being kidnapped, and potentially killed and there was nothing I could do about it.


	23. Chapter 23

*** **I do not own any of these characters.** I'm so so so sorry for the last short chapter but I'm still ironing out a few story details so I didn't want to write myself into any corners. I can't promise this chapter will be much longer but I'll try. I'll try to post this right after I post ch. 22 but I'm pretty dang tired right now… thanks for all the reviews and whatnot, it's just swell fellas***

23

I'm not really sure how long the car ride in the limo lasted or how far we went, but it seemed like a long time. Finally I was yanked out of the limo and, still with bag on head, was pulled for several minutes down an echoing hall. They forced me to sit in a chair and then I heard their footsteps walk away and a large metal door closing. I shivered as I heard a large bolt close on the door. Trapped.

I sat up and did some breathing exercises. It was the only think I could manage at that point. Still unable to see anything, I mentally reviewed everything that had happened so far: gun shot, Sherlock foot chase, limo, kidnap, bag, drive, metal door. Well, that certainly didn't illuminate anything.

After what seemed like an eternity, the large bolt opened. I held my breath. This was it, they were going to kill me and eat me or whatever the bloody hell they kidnapped me for. There was only one set of footsteps that I could hear slowly approaching me. The bag that had been on my head for so long was slowly removed. I had to blink several times to adjust to the light in the room. After gaining my vision back, I slowly looked up at the man in front of me.

"Well, erm, this is a bit awkward isn't it," I managed to spit out. "I mean, I'm sure this is all just a big misunderstanding or just some crazy joke gone to far, right Joaquin?" I added just as quickly, stumbling over my words.

He patted my head and walked towards one of the walls in the room and momentarily examined it before walking back over to me.

"Sorry sweetheart, but it's the real deal. I need you," He said staring at me.

"You could've just invited me for a cuppa," I said trying to force a smile but only managing a strange grimace.

"I need you, so you can bring me Sherlock."


	24. Chapter 24

***** I do not own any of these characters.** I'm still in Oregon but the trip is nearly over so I should be posting again regularly but Monday at the earliest. I may be going on another camping trip shortly after that but I'll definitely try to post a few more chapters between now and then. I'm so sorry loves but you've all been so kind and patient and I'm doing my best to make these next couple of chapters very good. This story is about to take some very drastic turns! Reviews and follows and favorites are always appreciated ***

24

I let out a half deranged giggle.

"He's dead," I said, my eyes flicking to his.

"Oh come now, Molly dearest. Don't be a bore," He said slowly lifting my chin with the tips of his thumb and index fingers.

"We both know that Sherlock Holmes is alive and well. Living under your very own roof!" he added, his pace quickening with excitement.

I pulled my head away and stared at the floor.

"Now of course, I didn't learn about his miraculous survival until quite recently. And it's certainly taken a while to form a plan. Oh, but we'll get to that in just a little bit. Right now, I'd like to introduce you to a little friend of mine. But I have a feeling you've met before," he said ending with a dark chuckle. Joaquin whistled and the large metal door opened up again and in walked a man dressed similar to a policeman. All black with various gadgets and weapons.

"I'm pretty sure that gun isn't standard police issue," I said jokingly as I swallowed back a large gulp. "Not to mention, I didn't know your affinity for weaponry, Ben," I added with a wince when I spoke his name.

His only response was a slight smirk.

"Ben, here, has been my eyes and ears. He's how I discovered the hitherto dead Sherlock. And he's going to also help me finish what my commander, Moriarty- bless his infernal soul- started," snapped Joaquin.

"Joaquin, let's be reasonable here," I started.

"Ah! I've forgotten proper introductions. Joaquin, though a beautiful name for a man I killed and stole the identity from, I confess is not my own true name. I'm Sebastian Moran," He said smiling with a tip of his hat. "Glad to finally make your true acquaintance," he added with a wink.

I shuddered and recovered quickly.

"Whatever your plans are, I won't help," I said defiantly.

"Oh sweet girl, you'll have no choice," he said with a smile so frightening that I felt my stomach clench tight with fear.


	25. Chapter 25

*** **I do not own any of these characters.** I'm really sorry guys but I'm not feeling up to writing too much lately. My dog had to be put down so I'm having some intese writers block. I'll try my best to post again soon. ***

25

"Now that we've got all the niceties out of the way, we can move on to bigger and better things. Sherlock has proved to be such a sneaky little snake and Moriarty just underestimated that fool," he drawled lazily walking around the room.

"Joaqin, er uh, Sebastian," I said tripping over his new-found identity, "first of all, Sherlock isn't alive, and even if he was, he'd figure a way out of your trap," I added still unsure of how to approach this strange turn of events.

"Sherlock is alive!" yelled Sebastian, inches from my face. He stood up and calmed himself before continuing.

"Again Molly, don't insult my intelligence by lying. He is alive, he's been staying at your apartment and the icing on the cake is that the great Sherlock Holmes has finally fallen in love," he said smiling that eerily smile that makes a shiver course through me.

I could only give a pain-filled laugh in response.

"You don't believe me?" asked Sebastian, cocking an eyebrow.

"It's ridiculous!," I countered, ":Who could possibly tempt Sherlock?" I added, scared that some woman had finally taken him from me.. Not that I ever really had him in the first place.

"Oh you silly girl, you really don't know, do you?" he said with a gleeful giggle.

I looked up at him, knitting my brows in confusion.

"Sherlock Holmes has fallen for you," he said faking nonchalance.

I could only snort in response.

"Again with the disbelief Ms. Hooper!" he said taking another turn about the room.

"Remember last time Sherlock left you for weeks on end?" he asked in a whisper.

I nodded my head. I always hated when he was gone.

"Well, our little friend was doing his best to dismantle Moriarty's network over in Berlin as well as other outposts. Almost succeeded too, if I hadn't gotten away with a few of my boys. Sherlock rushed back to you the second he got word that there was a plant in St. Bart's to keep an eye on you and his other friends just in case he did ever return to jolly old England."

"You. You were the plant!" I said my voice tense.

"Top of your class. Don't interrupt me anymore. Now, during the first signs of trouble from Sherlock over in Europe and I came over here to keep an eye on you Molly dearest. Oh you should have seen the way he panicked when he found out that you were a target. I barely escaped with my life but the majority of my forces weren't so lucky."

My adrenaline was waning as was my courage and the tears started pouring out of me.

"Oh don't cry Molly, there will be plenty time for that later. Now we need to tell you how you're going to help us finally take down the world's only consulting detective for good this time," he said lifting my face so that I would stare directly into his cold dark eyes.


	26. Chapter 26

*** **I do not own any of these characters.** I have downed a lot of liquid confidence in the past hour so I have no idea if what I just wrote is any good or if it makes any sense but it was the only way to get over my writers block. Thank you all so much for your kind words in regards to the passing of my dog. You are all just so kind and I love you all to death. I just finished mapping out the rest of this story. There are roughly six more chapters left so hold on to your hats, kiddos! Things are about to get crazy! Reviews are always just a big ray of sunshine in my day ***

26

Sebastian opened his cell phone and barked for another chair to be brought into the room. Moments later a nicely padded wooden chair that looked like something out of a magazine was rushed in by men dressed similarly to Ben but with the only difference being that their faces were covered in shiny black motorcycle helmets. He pointed to the ground in front of me and chair was placed directly before me. Sebastian then calmly sat down and crossed his legs while sipping tea from a cup and saucer that another man had brought in.

"If I unbind your hands, would you be so gracious as to have a cup with me?" he asked playing the part of the kindly host.

I nodded, realizing my own thirst.

Another man came into the room and undid my hands while yet another came and handed me a cup and saucer. I greedily drank from it and felt it run down my throat. The sudden warmness in this cold surrounding made me shiver.

"Now, just drink your tea while I explain the situation more fully to you," he said, now assuming the role of school teacher.

"My poor late commander, Moriarty, underestimated Sherlock Holmes but I assure you that I will not be making a similar mistake. The real flaw was that he left far too much room for Sherlock to outwit him. He assumed Sherlock would be so stricken by the deed at hand that he wouldn't be able to focus on his own self-preservation. That's where I've improved on the plan. Sherlock Holmes can outwit me. But little Molly Hooper can't." he said ending with a sickening smirk.

I started to say something but he shot me a frightening look that chilled me to the bone, so I shut my mouth and took another sip. If I wanted to have even the slightest chance to save Sherlock, I had to avoid provoking this crazy psychopath that might at any second change his mind about killing me.

"You're going to bring Sherlock, in a time and place of my choosing, to me. And before you get all tragically loyal and tell me that you refuse, let me tell you why you'll do it. My right hand Ben, here, will be having a lovely day out with John and Mary and if he gets any word that you and Sherlock have tried to foil my plans, he'll… well," he said before gesturing to Ben. My attention shifted back to my so called "beau" as he made a slow faux slashing motion across his throat to indicate his intentions. I gulped and turned back to face Sebastian.

"Eloquently put, Benjamin. So, Molly, you either bring Sherlock for his death or sacrifice the only two friends you have in the world. Oh and obviously I'd track you both down and kill you anyways if you tried to fool me in any way. So either Sherlock dies or all four of you die." He said before taking another sip of his tea.

He dabbed his mouth dantily with his handkerchief before continuing.

"And as if you needed more incentive to behave, I wouldn't risk letting Sherlock in on this plan of mine at any point. I have eyes and ears everywhere and at the first whiff of something fishy. I'll end you're friends. Are we clear, Molly dearest?" He said again with his pearly smile that made my stomach churn.

I could only respond in a whisper.

"Crystal."


	27. Chapter 27

*** **I do not own any of these characters.** Ugh I know you guys must hate me for posting so far apart. I'm the worst. I promise I have the last few chapters lined out. I just need to get my act together and finish writing them. It is tentatively going to end at 32 chapters. Again, I'm sorry for being so stupidly awful and I hope you guys can forgive me. Reviews are just the stuff I need to push me to get more writing done (hint hint) ***

27

Before I could even begin to wrap my head around everything that Sebastian said, a black bag was once again thrust on my head and I was plunged yet again into the blackness. Quite forcefully, I was lifted from the chair and tossed over some henchmen's shoulder. After a short walk, I was thrown into the back of a car and after another long drive with many twists and turns, I was kicked out of the car.

I blinked rapidly as I looked around and took in the sunlight as I quickly realized where I was. I stood almost in the exact spot they had dragged me from- right outside of the banquet hall. It was late last night when they grabbed me and looking at the sun, I'd venture to say it was around 5am. I'd been gone 6 hours. Everything in my life felt different but this street and all it's quietness was exactly the same. How I envied it.

Standing up, I bushed some of the dirt off of my red dress, took of my heels and held them in my hand as I made my way down the street. Hailing a taxi, I quietly sat in the back and headed home.

Very calmly I walked up the stairs to my flat. I opened the door, fed the cat, and tidied up a little before going into the bathroom. I headed for the shower and stepped inside. I let the water pour over me. Not caring that I was still fully clothed or that the water was freezing cold. I sank down into the fetal position and let the tears come.

It took a long time before the fear and the sadness gave way to the numbness. Eventually I stood up and took off my wet clothes and preceded to take a normal shower. I went about my morning routine as I would any other day. I did my hair and light make-up, picked out my clothes and went to put on the kettle.

As the water boiled, I tried to calmly piece everything together.

He wants Sherlock. No big surprise there, moriarty was bound to have men. I mean, perhaps Sherlock knows about the entire thing already… but if he did, wouldn't he have come and saved me last night? No Molly Hooper, you do not need a man to save you. For once, you have the chance to save Sherlock Holmes. Sebastian sees you as the chink in Sherlock's armor. You're not, You are a bright woman who can figure this out. You have to save them. Their lives depend on it!  
Just then my reverie was interrupted by the door unlocking, I grabbed for a knife from inside one of the kitchen drawers and gripped it tightly in my hand. After a moment, Sherlock glided into the room.

"Molly, why are you gripping that knife so tightly? Your knuckles are white!"


	28. Chapter 28

*** **I do not own any of these characters.** Whoa, okay guys I'm sensing that you're all a bit ticked at the length of the last one. I was just trying to emphasize Molly's breakdown and I thought adding more to that chapter would have taken away from what she was dealing with. Reviews are just amazing and I try to take everything you guys say into consideration!***

28

I accidently dropped the knife on the ground. I stared back and forth between the knife and Sherlock for a moment before bending down to pick it up.

"I… uh, I thought you were a burglar," I lied trying to keep my face from looking guilty.

"And your plan was to get the burglar with a butter knife?" he asked skeptically.

I quickly turned around and poured myself the cup of tea since the kettle was whistling loudly. I took my cup and sat at the kitchen table. Sherlock hesitantly took the seat cross from me.

"You weren't worried about burglars before. Why now?" He asked raising an eyebrow.

Of course Sherlock would see through my aversion. Damn it. I've always been an awful liar. I should have had something prepared.

"I watched a program on the telly," I lied lamely.

"Where did you watch it? You didn't come back here last night. Where did you go after the party? I came back here after trying to follow the shooter. You weren't here and it was almost one in the morning," he said searching my face for a reaction of some kind.

I held my face as still as possible, willing myself to give nothing away.

I ran through several different scenarios in my mind. I had to pick something that would be the most effective in staving off more questions.

"I ran into Joaquin again after leaving the party," I said, hoping that by using bits of the truth, I'd appear less like I was lying.

Sherlock's eyebrows quirked upwards.

"We ended up chatting for far too long. Next thing I knew it was five in the morning so I had to get back home," I added, hoping he wouldn't press me for details.

He looked almost crestfallen and was silent for a long moment.

"I thought you'd be here for me when I returned," he said, the hurt clearly visible in his eyes.

Pain shot through my heart as I looked at him. I started to reach my hand out towards his face but pulled it back. There were important matters at hand and I didn't have time to comfort and reassure Sherlock. He might be dead very soon and it was all my fault. I've been so stupid and took to many risks. Without being able to confide in Sherlock and let his brain save us all from this horrible fate, it was up to me.

I stood up briskly and excused myself before rushing to my room and shutting the door behind me.

One traitor tear slipped down my cheek. I quickly wiped it away and sat on the edge of my bed. I had to think of a plan and I had to do it fast.

I lay on my back and stared up at the ceiling. For the longest time, I just repeated "what would Sherlock Holmes do?" until I bolted upright. Sherlock wasn't going to be the one saving the day. It was going to be me. What would Molly Hooper do?

It was nearly midnight when my plan finally came together. Would it work? Had I thought of every possible way this could go wrong? I realized I didn't have time to doubt myself and needed to act as quickly as possible if I wanted to give my plan even the slightest chance of succeeding.

I walked out into the living room and saw Sherlock lying on the couch. He sat up abruptly as I walked in.

"Are you upset Molly?" he asked, his browns knitted in concern.

"Actually, I'm not. I think I've got everything under control. I've got to rush off to Bart's for my night shift but I'll be back soon. Please stay here and just text me if you need anything," I said grabbing my keys off of the small table next to the front door.

I was going to just leave but the temptation was too great. I quickly walked across the room and grabbed Sherlock's face between my hands and kissed him with all my might. There was so much emotion in those few seconds that I had to pull away before my resolve deteriorated completely. I had to save him.


	29. Chapter 29

*** **I do not own any of these characters.** Two new chapters in one day? Has the world gone topsy turvy or is it perhaps I feel so bad about being just the worst and that I want you guys to love me again? The second one. Definitely. Reviews are always appreciated! ***

29

I can't believe how quickly time has slipped by. He gave me three days before I had to deliver Sherlock into his trap. Now here we are, only moments left before my plan was put to the test. The irony was not lost on me that the day everything would go down… was a Monday.

"Molly, are you sure you know where you're going?" Sherlock asked, holding his flashlight out in front of him so that we could see where we were stepping.

One of Sebastian's henchmen had called only an hour before to tell her where to take Sherlock. They were in some sort of abandoned tube station.

"Of course, Sherlock. I told you that Joaquin gave me directions on where to find the mysterious bottles of blood," I said wincing as I had confirm the lie I had told Sherlock earlier to get him to come. I'm a bloody awful liar. Bottles of blood? I mentally punched myself in the face for that stupid story.

"And how did he even find these bottles?" asked Sherlock, the skepticism clear in his voice.

"He didn't say," I said, trudging onwards.

Looking around the room with my flashlight, I could tell we were in the right spot but Sebastian was nowhere to be seen.

Before I would lose the chance, I turned to Sherlock and pulled his face towards mine. He stiffened but quickly melted into my embrace. His tongue traced my lips before I opened my mouth the give him access. His tongue joining with mine was interrupted when we heard a throat clearing.

Sherlock broke out kiss and pushed me to stand behind him.

"Molly, Sherlock," Sebastian said, nodding to us both.

"Sebastian Moran, I suppose?" said Sherlock with a bored sounding tone.

"The very same. And let me just say, big fan of your work. I'm so pleased Molly was able to convince you to come join us today," he said with that sickening smile creeping up onto his face.

"Clearly," rang Sherlock's curt reply. "But the theatrics were unnecessary and if you don't mind, Molly and I have somewhere to be," he added grabbing me by the arm.

"Not. So. Fast," said Sebastian shaking his head between each word.

"If you don't care about poor John and Mary's lives, then by all means, you can leave right now," he said in a whisper.

Sherlock stiffened and turned back to face the crazy man standing before us.

"If, however, you do care, then I suggest you stay right where you are," he added staring straight at Sherlock.

My plan better work or else I've signed all of our death certificates. I gulped and clutched tighter to Sherlock.


	30. Chapter 30

*** **I do not own any of these characters.** I know ya'll are chompin' at the bit so I won't waste you're time! Happy reading! Reviews are appreciated! ***

30

"Well, I've got to ask, Mr. Holmes," said Sebastian as he stared straight at Sherlock who returned the icy glare.

"Those are my natural cheekbones," Sherlock said off-handedly.

Sebastian gave a sarcastic laugh before continuing, "my question deals not with your physical appearance but rather in how you knew my name. Don't get me wrong, I'm terribly flattered, but I've been keeping an eye on molly and I know she never told you. So before you die, I'd ask that you let me in on how you figured me out."

Sherlock rolled his eyes and remained silent which caused Sebastian to howl with laughter. Without taking his eyes off of Sherlock's, he reached into his coat pocked and took out a walkie-talkie.

"Ben?" he asked quickly, talking into the walkie-talkie.

"Yes sir?" came the reply.

"Have you got John and Mary within your sights?"

"Right between the eyes sir," came the answer.

"Very good. Stay in position," said Sebastian before putting the walkie-talkie back in his pocket.

"So let's try this again Sherlock. How. Did. You. Know?" He asked slowly.

"Your left sleeve," replied Sherlock.

"Don't bait me, Sherlock, give me the full answer before I get angry and kill off your friends," Sebastian said acerbically.

"Back in the Netherlands, you had on a mask but your left sleeve was rolled up to three quarter length while your right was completely down. There were bottles everywhere but your men's reaction times weren't slowed which left you as the only consumer of any alcohol. You have all the symptoms of a closet alcoholic. I had my inkling when you went on your date with Molly but John convinced me that I was feeling jealousy. I've now come to realize it was a little of both. Your appearance at the doctor's charity benefit was the next clue. Your sleeves were again in the same position but you didn't display any of the symptoms of alcoholism which meant that you still had the same impulses but weren't using the same addictive substance. You'd moved on to something much stronger. You're addicted to revenge. I'm willing to admit that I didn't fully understand exactly who you were or that I was involved until Molly forced me on this strange outing. I always miss something." Sherlock said quickly.

"Oh very good. But I'm afraid that this time, your best wasn't really good enough," said Sebastian as he pulled out his gun.

"Now, since John's life is on the line, I just know you're going to behave yourself but just in case you get any strange ideas, I'll have a little more incentive for you," he said before snapping his fingers.

Moments later we were surrounded by several henchmen still dressed in all black and motorcycle helmets.

Again Sebastian took out his walkie-talkie and held in front of his mouth. He momentarily paused and looked at me and then back to Sherlock before a smile appeared on his face.

"Ben?"

"Yes sir?"

"Kill Dr. Watson,"

Sherlock was about to jump onto Sebastian when everything suddenly turned into slow motion.

Sebastian aimed his gun then almost simultaneously, two shots went off.

Suddenly I was on the floor while Sherlock held my head up. I looked over to see that Sebastian was holding his hand. It was gushing blood. That's when I looked at my shoulder and saw that it too was gushing. Then everything went black.


	31. Chapter 31

*** **I do not own any of these characters.** Why are you reading this authors note?! Go find out what happens next! Reviews are appreciated ***

31

There was nothing but black and a strange unknown sensation I could only describe as peaceful. Maybe I was dead. Wait, no, death wouldn't hurt, I thought as my shoulder hummed with a dull pain. The darkness slowly became brighter as the dull pain became sharper and the quiet became louder with the beeping of machines.

I blinked my eyes open.

Well, either I'm alive or heaven looks an awful lot like a hospital room.

Suddenly I bolted upright. SHERLOCK! Oh god! My plan! I think it worked. I couldn't remember anything past taking the bullet for Sherlock. Thinking about the bullet caused me to turn and look at my shoulder. It was covered in layers of bandage and there were roughly several different needles stuck in my arm. I tried to move my fingers but they didn't move. I tried to move my forearm but again, I was not moving anything. I started to hyperventilate. My arm was useless. Oh god they're going to have to cut if off! I squeaked and desperately tried to get it to move. I could hear the beeping of the machines get louder but I didn't care. I had to move my arm and I had to go find Sherlock to make sure he's okay.

Nurses and a doctor swarmed into the room but they wouldn't listen as I tried to tell them that I needed to leave. They tried to calm me down but I wouldn't calm down. My arm was dead! A nurse stuck a needle into one of the tubes leading into my arm and I could feel myself falling back asleep.

Just before I closed my eyes, I saw a tall figure in a long black coat and a blue scarf rush into the room. Was it Sherlock? The darkness reclaimed me.


	32. Chapter 32

*** **I do not own any of these characters. **I know some of you may actually hunt me down with knives if I didn't post another chapter today. So since I'm allergic to being stabbed with knives, here's the next chapter! Enjoy! Reviews are appreciated ***

32

Making tea with one hand is proving a bit difficult. I've broken two cups already but third times the charm I suppose. I sigh and look at my other arm that lays in a blue sling against my torso. The doctors say it could be months before I can use it again. I know I should be lucky that it'll work again eventually but several months of performing every task one handedly is going to be quite a challenge. I successfully pour my cup of tea and take it with me to the living room where I sit down on the couch.

Sherlock's tapping his fingers nervously against his knee and keeps looking at the front door.

"They'll be here soon," I say reassuringly.

He starts to open his mouth but quickly shuts it again. I know he was going to make some comment about how I've stated the obvious, but he must have realized that I was attempting to comfort him.

I was studying Sherlock's features intently when there was a sharp rap at the door. Sherlock stayed perfectly still so I stood up to answer it.

"By all means, let the girl with one good arm answer the door," I said sarcastically as I reached for the knob.

Opening the door, I smile at John and Mary.

"It's so good to see you two," I say with a genuine smile. There's no way I could put my happiness to seem them both alive into words so that would have to do for now.

"What the bloody hell is going on molly?" Said John lifting one eyebrow at me.

"We've had the most insane day yesterday and today you call to tell us that you have urgent news and it's just been ridiculous," he says, sounding exasperated.

"It'll all be explained momentarily," comes a voice from behind John and Mary.

"What are you doing here?" John says bitterly, whipping around to face Mycroft.

"Always a pleasure John," says Mycroft, nodding at john and shaking hands with Mary.

"Um, there's something… er, someone, you should see, John," I say, unsure of how to proceed.

He stared at me, searching my face for a clue but I stayed as vacant as I could manage.

"Come inside," I added stepping inside.

John took a few steps into the living room and froze. His eyes locked on Sherlock's.

Before I could process what had happened, Sherlock was on the floor clutching is nose and John was standing above his with his hand in a fist.

"John!" shouted Mary and she rushed inside.

I could hear Mycroft chuckle as he joined all of us inside of my flat.

"Good to see you John," Sherlock said, still clutching his nose.


	33. Chapter 33

*** **I do not own any of these characters. **So after this chapter, there's only one left! Happy reading and reviews are appreciated ***

33

We began once everyone was comfortably seated in the living room, well, reasonable comfortable. Sherlock had to ice his nose. I suspected it may be broken but he didn't want to draw attention to it since it would only upset John. John, Mary, and Mycroft were squished together on my tiny couch. It was an interesting sight to say the least. I saw in my large overstuffed recliner but was perched on the very edge of it. Sherlock was perched on the arm rest.

"Well, I'd like an explanation," said John and he tried in vain to put more space between himself and Mycroft on the couch.

"How the devil are you alive? I saw you fall!" John spat out and started to stand up but Mary squeezed his leg and he stayed in his seat.

"I'm sorry John but I had to disappear. Moriarty had sent men to kill you unless I jumped. And then once everyone thought I was dead, I knew I could use that to my advantage to untangle and wipe out his entire network. I had Molly's help. She helped me disappear," Sherlock said, not flinching away from John's intense stare.

"I'm so sorry John," I whispered, clutching my tea closer to my body.

"I was on the last of his men, Sebastian Moran, when Moran escaped from me when I was in the Netherlands and, unknowingly to me, got a new alias within St. Bart's hospital to work alongside Molly. He got close to her in order to find out my location and then once he was sure I was back in London, he used Molly to set up a trap for me," Sherlock continued, calmly which is much more then I could say about myself since my tea was nearly spilling out of the cup from how badly my hand was shaking.

"Molly's 'boyfriend', Ben," spit Sherlock, "was a plan put in place by Sebastian to monitor all of Molly's dealing and he was sent to kill both you and Mary should Molly and I have attempted to escape from his trap. He claimed that he had improved upon his previous boss' plan. I'll have to admit that I have since figured out the plan, but I was not the one that saved all our lives. We have Molly to thank for that," He said turning to face me.

I looked away and added, "Mycroft did everything. I deserve no credit. It's my fault that you were all even in this situation anyways."

"I'd only have gotten wind of all this nonsense when you got my attention, Ms. Hooper," said Mycroft looking straight at me when I lifted my gaze.

"Ah, I must admit that I'm also a bit ignorant of how exactly you got Mycroft involved. Sebastian said he was watching you the entire time and that he never saw or heard you contact anyone," said Sherlock turning from Mycroft to face me.

"I didn't," I said looking into my cup of tea, "Joseph Yezhov did," I finished with a little smirk. I looked up to see their expectant faces, silently asking me to continue. "Well, it wasn't terribly clever and I know you would have figured out something infinitely better had you been in my situation. But I stole your fake Bart's hospital i.d. card and used it to create a real account in the St. Bart's system. I made your fake i.d. a bit more real. As far as the hospital knew, you really did exist and you really were my intern."

"Your intern?" said Sherlock and John simultaneously.

"It's a bit hard to explain that bit right now and it's not important. I created the Yezhov account since I knew Sebastian would be monitoring mine. You may have to also give some credit to lestrade since he had a hand in all this as well. Back when you were facing that Chinese syndicate, Lestrade and I were discussing symbols like the one used by the gang. That discussion led to one about how there are certain tattoos and symbols that he has to report to a higher authority if he ever stumbles upon them in his cases. 'Yezhov' found several bodies with these strange tattoos. Within the reports were several clues about the situation. Although my previous run-in with Mycroft were minimal, I knew his talents ran along the same vain as his brother's. Sooner then I had even expected, Mycroft contacted 'Yezhov' and I was able to explain everything and help develop a plan to get us all out of this horrid situation." I said quickly. I felt completely out of breath and had to calm down and drink a bit of tea.

"Well what actually happened yesterday?" asked John, impatiently.

"I can fill that in," replied Sherlock. He put down the bag of ice that was previously on his nose before continuing. "Mycroft, through the ungodly powers that this country gives him, infiltrated Sebastian's men. Wiped them out and replaced them with his own. They all showed up the day that Sebastian had planned his trap. I really do wish they had shown up before any of that ridiculous shooting had gone on. It would have saved us an awful lot of trouble. As for you and Mary, Mycroft sent his men to collect you and get you away from Ben as quickly as possible. Also, just in the nick of time. You're getting slower Mycroft," Sherlock said tersely.

Mycroft began to say something back to Sherlock when the shaking became so bad that my tea cup fell completely out of my had and smashed onto the floor, breaking into several pieces and spilling tea everywhere.

"oh god! Please excuse me," I said quickly before darting into my bedroom and shutting the door behind me.

I took a bullet for that man and all he could say was that it was "an awful lot of trouble". I could hardly contain my anger. I should have just let the bloody bastard die.


	34. Chapter 34

*** **I do not own any of these characters. **Last chapter, kiddos. I hope you all enjoyed it. There's definitely potential for a sequel but I guess ya'll are just gonna have to wait and see. You guys are seriously the best for putting up with all my posting drama lately and I love you guys to death. I honestly hope you enjoyed this story and happy reading! Reviews would be the icing on the cake! ***

34

I was hugging my pillow and performing my old breathing exercises. I hadn't had to use any of those breathing techniques since before my 'transformation'. It was all lies. A new wardrobe didn't make me a different person. Silly molly was still very much the same girl as she was before. I was still nothing. I'd be better off to just resign myself to a life of invisibility.

There was a soft knock on my bedroom door. I didn't move or respond. The knock came again and I just stared at the door.

"Molly, they've all left," Sherlock's voice came floating through the door. "and I need to speak to you. Can I come in?" he asked.

I had nothing to say to him so I remained silent. He slowly opened the door and stepped inside. Noticing my resentful expression, he didn't come any closer to the bed but stayed in the doorway.

"Look molly, now that I'm no longer 'dead' it's probably for the best that I move back to Baker street since John will soon be moving in with Mary. I also wanted to say that I am really sorry for putting your life in danger. Imagining what you went through and how you felt drives me crazy in way I've never felt before and every time I even see that sling on your arm I'm filled with such incredible shame and guilt for being the one who was responsible for it. I understand if you hate me for being the cause of all this insanity but again, I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am," he said never looking me in the eye.

I was silent for a moment but then Sherlock started to leave the room and I quickly found my voice.

"You think that's why I'm upset?" I asked incredulously. "You think I blame you for everything? That's completely mental!" I added throwing my arm in the air to show my pure disbelief.

"It's not?" asked Sherlock, unsure of what was going to come out of my mouth next.

"Sherlock Holmes, everything you ever did this past year has been entirely selfless. You've given up your home and your way of life to track down the man who put the ones you love at risk. How could I ever be angry about that?" I said, staring straight into his eyes.

"But you are upset?" he asked, still on unknown territory.

"You saw my interference as a nuisance. It just seemed like you didn't care what I did and that I had only made things worse," I replied, breaking eye contact.

Sherlock walked over to the bed and sat on the edge next to me.

"You saved my life Molly Hooper. I care about everything you do. I care about you," he said grabbing my hand.

"Even though I'm not as clever as you and I only have one good arm?" I asked, unable to stop myself from smiling like an idiot.

"You are infinitely more clever than you give yourself credit for, you caught a criminal mastermind for goodness sake, and as far as your arm is concerned, we'll just keep you away from the fine china for now," he replied laughing as he leaned his forehead against mine.

"We didn't catch them both. Ben is still out there," I whispered suddenly afraid.

"With both of us on his tail, he doesn't stand a chance," he said squeezing my hand.

"I love you, you completely mental bastard," I said as I took his face in my hands and kissed him.


End file.
